


Operation: Tiddy Freedom

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Series: Adventures with the Man in Red [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Post-DMC5, With a hint of spice, gender-neutral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22698136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: It's Cleaning Day at Devil May Cry, and Dante's found his old teenage outfit!And it still fits!...Barely.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Series: Adventures with the Man in Red [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638046
Comments: 14
Kudos: 114





	Operation: Tiddy Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day to all my readers! Here's a little Dante flavoured treat for you all. A special thanks to TehRevving for coming up with the basic plot on the Discord chat, and to [this](https://twitter.com/b4loma/status/1118391422112215041) tweet for kinda starting it all. Also, a special thanks to NovaTheBomb for the title.

Oh, you guys are not going to believe this...” Dante yelped as he leapt down the stairs, three at a time, startling both you and Vergil as you organized the bookshelf. You were dusting, while Vergil placed the books (after 'checking' them thoroughly, more than once you had to clear your throat to get his nose out of a book and hand it to you) in their correct slots.

“Found this baby in storage in the upper room, it's over twenty years old, and boy, does it bring back memories!” he crowed proudly “And the best part, it still fits!”

You gave up resisting the distraction, and you finally turned around and saw Dante in the most ridiculous get up. Combat boots, dark brown leather pants... and no shirt. Instead, he wore a bright red, if a bit faded over time leather overcoat, with a wide matching red belt at the waist, with a silvery metal buckle. Looking at the holes on the belt, you deduced that it had never actually been buckled up, ever.

But what really caught your eyes was the brown, nearly black belt of leather that wrapped around his chest. Barely. It had obviously been designed when he was a younger, slimmer, less developed man. It looked like a hoop around a whiskey barrel, barely holding on. In fact, you were certain he was contracting his chest in to keep it from snapping. You could imagine the pattern of the leather embedded into his flesh for a few precious moments after it snapped, the texture of it as it faded under your fingertips as you slowly dragged them across across his chest...

“ _Ahem”_ The sound of Vergil disapprovingly clearing his throat, most likely in mockery of your earlier actions dragged you kicking and screaming back to the present. Slightly mortified to be caught in such a daydream, you anxiously glanced at both men, but Vergil was busy frowning at his younger brother, and Dante was too busy checking himself out in the reflection of the jukebox to notice you gawking.

“You looked ridiculous in that as a nineteen year old, and you look even more ridiculous now as a middle aged man, Dante.” Vergil observed, sharply.

“Says the guy who wore an ascot at the same time I wore this,” Dante countered, “Brother, you have no leg to stand on when it comes to fashion. And unlike you,” he paused to flex, and you swore you could hear from across the room, the leather belt protest at the stretching, “I still make it look good, regardless of age, don't you agree sweetheart?”

An uncomfortable period of silence occurred as his words pushed aside the fantasies you had clogging in your brain, like an overcrowded elevator. “O-oh, yeah... Dante... y-you look great,” you stammered. Okay, at least one of them had to notice that you must have turned as red as Dante's overcoat, but nope, the younger brother was too busy preening at your compliment, while the elder was rolling his eyes as he picked up several boxes full of old books.

“Dante,” Vergil's dour voice cut through his brothers cheerfulness, “you were supposed to be cleaning upstairs, not playing dress up. I thought we had agreed that today was to be dedicating to cleaning this poor excuse of a residence”

“Aw man,” Dante pouted, “You can't let a guy just reminisce about his younger years, just a little bit?”

“Look,” you interceded. You didn't want a fight to break out, piling 'Clean bloodstains off the floor' to your list of cleaning duties. “We all deserve a little break,” you turned to Vergil, “How about you drop off those old books to the used book shop, and have yourself a treat at the cafe?” Vergil paused, taking a moment to think about it, before hefting the box of books a bit higher, and nodding. “Very well,” he agreed, “I shall leave you and... this fool alone” You could have sworn you saw a knowing look in his eye as he stared at you for a moment, before he left. _Did he know what thoughts were going through your head?_. No, he couldn't have.

Even if he had, it was apparent that Dante was oblivious. He was still grinning like an idiot as he adjusted his leather gloves. “I guess I'll get back to the boooooring parts of this job. But....” he said as he pointed his thumbs to his muscular chest, “I'm still gonna keep wearing this”. And after clicking his tongue as he gave you finger guns, he leapt back up the steps, and back into his work.

You continued to tidy up the living room, dusting, organizing, and eventually you pulled out the ancient vacuum cleaner, nearly as dusty as the room itself had been. After getting it to work, you methodically sucked up all that you could, but you couldn't get the image out of your head. That leather belt pressing against his chest, the sound of it creaking as it struggled to envelop that mass of pure muscle. The white hairs peeking around the edges....

That was it, you thought... you needed to find a way to make that leather band snap, preferably while in your vicinity. And you had to be subtle about it, you'd be mortified if Dante found out what you were up to....

_Operation: Tiddy Freedom commences now!_

The easiest way was obvious; get him to flex his chest muscles. And to do that, he would have to exert himself, lifting something heavy... you looked at the couch, blocking your progress...

“Hey Dante!” you yelled over the drone of the vacuum. For a moment, you thought perhaps you should have turned it off first, but then, the man appeared, sliding down the banister, before landing perfectly on the ground floor.

“What's up babe?” he asked over the din, and you pointed at the couch, miming it being lifted up. You couldn't trust yourself to voice yourself, worried you'd give away your true intentions.

He got the message, “No problem! Anything for you, sweetcheeks” and you blushed, (you hoped if he noticed that, he'd think it was because of the pet name, and not in... anticipation.

And with about as much effort as it took to lift up the receiver of his phone, he lifted up the couch up with one hand, and smiled as he motioned you to proceed. Keeping one eye on his chest, you quickly vacuumed underneath, getting rid of the veritable hutch of dust bunnies that had accumulated.

_The leather belt held...._

You did your best to hide your disappointment, but really, what were you expecting? The Sparda brothers were freakishly strong, it wouldn't have taken Dante much effort to lift something like this, barely needing to flex his muscles. Your sighs were drowned out by the persistent whine of the vacuum, and you faked a thankful smile to him, (to be fair, he had been helpful, the antique couch would have been a pain in the butt to move by yourself).

The man gave you a cocky smile and then headed back up. You'd have to think of something else.

_Operation: Tiddy Freedom_

_Phase One: Failure_

After the living room was decent, you headed to the kitchen. You could vaguely hear Dante thumping around upstairs, and every so often you could hear him singing a rock tune or something. You wiped down the cupboards, emptied the drawers of all unessential items ( _Did you really need that power cord that goes to who knows what? Nah, just toss it....TOSS IT_ ) and boxed the old dishes that you guys never used.

After coating the oven with the foamy oven cleaner, you decided to sweep the kitchen while you were waiting for it to do it's magic. While not as dusty as the living room, there were some grimy corners that cried out to be swept and scrubbed. One such threatening spot was on the edge of the base of the fridge. The metaphorical light-bulb (that strangely looked like the oven light) went off in your head.

“Dante!” you yelled out, “Need some more help!” And quick as a flash, as if you had summoned Hermes himself, the red clad demon hunter appeared.

“Alrighty, what can ole' Dante do for you?”

You composed yourself as best as you could “I need to sweep and scrub underneath the fridge, mind moving it for me?”

He grinned, and with a focused 'Hmmmph' he wrapped his muscular arms around the machine, pulled, and lifted. You had never in your life thought you would be jealous of a refrigerator, but then again, you never thought you'd fall in love with a silver fox half-demon. But now to the business at hand.

Dante kept the fridge up, a few inches off the floor as you tried to pretend to move quickly to sweep and with the scratchy side of a sponge, getting rid of the decades old dirt that had accumulated there. After all, the longer he held it up, the more likely that leather belt would snap. But there was no distinctive sound of creaking leather being pushed past it's breaking point, no grunt of surprise from Dante, and as he set it back in place after you finished, you quickly glanced at his chest.

_The belt remained intact._

Dismay fought to take over your facial features, but you held firm. If he knew what you were trying to do, you weren't sure you could handle the teasing. So instead, you gave him yet another fake smile, thanking him profusely for his help. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, and left the kitchen, and you heard his combat boots clattering up the stairs.

_Operation: Tiddy Freedom_

_Phase Two: Failure._

You began to wipe out the cleaning foam out of the oven, marvelling at how something so delicate as a bunch of bubbles could be strong enough the strip the encrusted dirt. After that, you finished sweeping and scrubbing the rest of the kitchen floor, before taking a breather. All that was left for this room was taking the boxes of unused dishes to the car, for transport to the local second hand shop.

The boxes themselves weren't that heavy, so there was no point in asking him to help you, it was easy enough on its own. But as you loaded the boxes into your car trunk, a devious idea popped into your brain. Alright, perhaps the couch, and even the fridge hadn’t been enough, but surely lifting a car….

You pulled out your phone, then gently set it on the ground, before pushing it so it was totally out of reach underneath the vehicle. Now, to put your acting skills to good use.

“Dante!” you cried out in mock horror, “I need help!”

The man came out running, a bit quicker than you thought, obvious worry on his face. Good, the ploy was working “What’s wrong, babe?”

Now to play the part of lover in distress. “My phone,” you said sadly, “I was carrying out the boxes to put in the trunk, and my phone popped out of my pocket, and I can’t reach it under the car. Silly me, I should have left it inside.”

Dante’s face relaxed in relief as he took a peek at the undercarriage. “Ah, don’t you worry your pretty little head, just be ready to snatch it up. And after spending a few moments cracking his knuckles, he grabbed your back bunker, and with both hands, lifted the car a good three quarters of a metre off the ground.

You darted underneath, grabbed your phone, and once you were free and clear, tapped him on the shoulder to let him know it was safe to put it down, which he did with surprising gentleness. You gave a kiss on the lips as thanks.

_And yet, the leather belt still remained unbroken._

_Operation: Tiddy Freedom_

_Phase Three: Failure_

You sighed sadly. All this work for naught. You’d have to ask him who the leather-worker was for that, seeing as it was such good quality, even after these years. But it was cold comfort…

“Babe, you okay?” his worried voice split into your morose thoughts. You shook your head to clean out the mental cobwebs, and you smiled, although you didn’t feel like it. You felt as dirty as the floor behind the fridge for making Dante do all these things, just for your amusement.

“It’s…. just been a long day, cleaning and such” you replied, truthfully this time.

“Awww, come here sweetheart,” and you felt his strong arms envelope you in a big hug. _So this is what the fridge felt like…_ You thought to yourself, as he tightly held you against his bare chest. 

All of a sudden, you heard, and felt what was unmistakably the sound of leather stretching beyond its capabilities, and then

**SNAP!**

Dante’s chest belt ripped down the middle, the two ends dangling sadly at his sides. You stared at them, then at the reddened mark where just a few moments ago, it had been practically embedded into his skin. You swore you could see the stitches echoed into his muscular flesh.

“Aw shucks,” you heard him say, and you looked up to see him with a cheeky grin on his face. “will you look at that? Looks like I hugged you a bit too strongly. Sometimes I don't know my own strength, didn’t crush any of your ribs, did I?”

He was joking of course… but that grin he gave you….and the fact that he’d just snapped his belt like it was a piece of dried spaghetti... _Wait….did he know what your plan had been all along?_

You pressed your face into his chest, both attempting to feel the rapidly fading marks, and also to hide the fact your face had more blush than the entire pharmacy makeup aisle. 

Dante lowered his head, so his mouth was at your ear level, and murmured,seductively “You know, I cleaned up the bedroom, we ought to… christen it before Verg gets home…”

You had barely nodded your head before without warning, Dante lifted you up, bridal style, and carried you indoors like you weighed nothing at all.

And to be truthful, that’s how you felt.


End file.
